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Poem by Alexander Brome To a Lady that turned her Cheek 1. ANd why this coyness, Lady mine? What needs all this adoe? 'Tis but a swap, my lips for thine, A gentle touch, and goe. Nay let such kisses still be kept, Let him that is deny'd Your lip, and will your cheek accept, Lye only by your side. 2. I hate to kiss your druggs and foiles, 'Tis flesh that I affect, And you whose art your nature spoils, I like not, but suspect. Pray why's your mouth more shie than mine? Am't I as sound as you're? My lips let in as much good wine, And send out words as pure. 3. Expect no courtship more from me, Nor words, that you, and I May in our judgments plainly see, Make but a ranting lie: Leave these coy humours and be plain: Deny, or else be free, Look not for love, w'thout love again, I'll kiss, if you'l kiss me. Alexander Brome Alexander Brome's other poems:
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